The Demon Repoman of Fleet Street
by NeverDreamsOfMe
Summary: Shilo is sent to live with her biological father, Sweeney Todd, who has been in jail her whole life. To get his false charges cleared, Sweeney must take a new job - and earn his daughters' trust. Repo!verse. Rated for language/scary stuff. Finished!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Repo! The Genetic Opera, nor Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street.

Hey guys! Here's a new story from me! I saw Repo for the first time last night (and loved it! =D) and was inspired to write this today. I've been wanting to write this for a while; I'm so excited to get started. Anyway, enjoy!

...

"Shilo, dear? We're ready to start."

The girl at the window turned away from the city below to face the source of the voice. Her deceased adoptive fathers' lawyer, Cato Snake, stood at the head of the long oval table in the middle of the room. His tall, lanky frame was dressed in a deep gray suit, complete with a navy tie and polished black shoes. Black hair, silvering at the roots, was slicked back from his forehead. His small hazel eyes gazed almost sympathetically at the girl called Shilo. Already a small girl, she looked even smaller dressed all in mourning black; her pale face bleached even whiter by her outfit. She stepped forward, into the room. Snake held out the chair next to his own for her in a most gentlemanly manner, and she sat, avoiding the eyes of the people sitting across from her.

These three others were Rottis' biological children: Luigi, caressing his favorite pocketknife; Amber, looking quite proud and haughty under her huge hat; and Pavi, patting his new face into place. All of them were also garbed in black and hoped to inherit GeneCo. Shilo had to admit she had a better chance of inheriting than they did, owing to the fact that Rotti had disowned his disappointing children shortly before his death. Still, she shuddered at the horrible thought that she might own all of GeneCo. Perhaps Rotti thought he was doing her a favor, leaving her some comfort in the form of a multimillion dollar company. Truth be told, Shilo never wanted the company. Being raised with Rottis' unruly children who threw money away on their varied eccentricities always irked her. She felt if she had money like that, she'd do something worthwhile with it. _Like finding a cure for my disease._

Shilos' small hands gripped the armrests of her chair. Despite Rottis' constant assurances that his doctors were working around the clock to find a cure, none had been found. "Blood diseases are tricky," he said once, "these things take time." Shilo had been waiting for a cure for 17 years; how much longer would she have to wait? She wanted to go outside, explore the city, but her condition and guardians' persuasion confined her indoors. Shilo, though an obedient girl, found herself growing ever more restless as the years went by. She wondered, not for the first time, how much longer she could remain indoors before she went completely crazy.

"The last will and testament of Rotti Largo," Snake reading aloud jerked Shilo from her thoughts. She gave the lawyer her full attention as he went on, "To my sons, Luigi and Pavi, I leave each 10 million dollars in the hopes that they will use it well." Shilo glanced at their slightly disappointed faces.

"To my favorite little girl," Amber straightened importantly, while Shilo sank down slightly, "I know you will run GeneCo well -," Here, Snakes' eyes popped a little. His nearly golden eyes darted from Shilo to Amber and back to the paper. Shilos' stomach felt leaden with dread.

"- Carmella." The lawyer finished.

Amber didn't even wince at her given name as she usually did. On the contrary, she shrieked and leapt out of her chair. Luigi and Pavi joined her, hugging and congratulating their sister, pleased that GeneCo would still be run by the family. They had always regarded Shilo as something dirty, loathing the possibility that Shilo might inherit; ironic, seeing as the very relieved Shilo never wanted the company.

"To my sweet Shilo," Snake shouted over them, reminding them there was still more of the will to read. He continued only when they had sat down, "You were always a comfort and joy to me-," Amber snorted audibly, but Shilo and Snake were unfazed, "- and my only regret is that I was never able to give you a real family. I hereby leave you 5 million dollars and the chance to live with your biological father, who upon my death is now your legal guardian."

Shilos' insides went cold again. She stared at the lawyer in disbelief, unaware of her adoptive siblings' gazes on her. It was several seconds before she could find her voice, and when she did, she blurted, "You mean the one who's in jail?"

...

Awwyess. ;D Reviews are much appreciated; stay tuned for the next chapter!


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer applies to every chapter, kiddies.

I know. I have no excuses. Here, free shots - allows big heavy objects to be thrown at her- Let this next chapter entertain you while I tend to my smashed face.

...

The ferry slices easily through the water, belying its mass. A mist veils the harbor and the vessel parts that with just as much ease. It is a thin fog, but the skyline of the distant city is hidden nonetheless. Normally the urban jungle is just visible from Inmate Island, tantalizingly clear yet unreachable all the same. Any man other than Sweeney Todd would have found the scene calmingly beautiful, especially after one had been what Todd had been through. Instead, that man felt an anger smoldering inside him; odd, considering he was now a free man, headed for the shore he had stared longingly at for nearly eighteen years. Yet the one man who he'd been exacting his revenge on in his dreams – Rotti Largo – was already dead. Todds' grip on the rail tightened. This was just like fate, or providence, or whatever, to snatch away the one thing he had been living for all these years.

Then he suddenly remembered someone else he had been dreaming about during his stint in jail. A lot less than Rotti lying in a pool of blood, for sure, but another person had haunted his dreams all the same. Someone much more pleasant. His daughter, Shilo. He had never received any pictures; that would have been much too thoughtful of his arch nemesis. Yet as the years went on, the nightly images portrayed her growing up: first as a baby, then a toddler, the next year starting her first day of school. Always when the bloodlust rose dangerously high in him, he would dream of his daughter. It was as if something was reminding him that there was still some good in this world, and he would subsequently regain most of his sanity. Todd wasn't sure if this was some sort of kinship connection or simply wishful dreaming, but he was grateful all the same. He felt he had been there for part of her childhood, at least. _Not that she's a child anymore_, he thought. Lately his dreams had been showing a beautiful young woman, the semblance to her mother so striking he had gasped the first time, nearly jerking himself out of sleep.

Marni. Shilos' mother. She was the reason he was in jail – partly. Everyone thought Todd murdered her, his own wife, the love of his life. A filthy lie. She had died the very night she'd given birth to Shilo. Marni was having trouble with the birth, having been sick most of the pregnancy. The newlyweds weren't very well off, and they couldn't afford the medical bills for her sickness as well as the pregnancy. Todd had tended to her as best as he could, but he was no expert. He'd left her with his neighbor, Nellie Lovett, while he ran for the doctor – they hadn't been able to afford a phone, either. He hadn't so much as rounded the corner down the block before a blood-curdling shriek split the air. It had come from his house! The barber sprinted back, only to find Mrs. Lovett knocked out on the floor, Marni on the bloodstained bed, and a shrieking Shilo in his dead wifes' arm.

Something shiny caught Todd's eye then. One of his straightrazors lay on the floor. He picked it up, wondering on earth what it would be doing there. It gleamed viciously with blood. He looked at his wife. Her throat had been cut.

No sooner had he put two and two together than the police came barreling through the bedroom door and arrested him for his wifes' murder. He roared his innocence through the first interrogation all the way to the trial that had landed him in prison. "Rotti did it, he set me up!" he kept repeating, but to no avail. Todd knew of Rotti and Marnis' tangled past, and was adamant that he had done it for revenge. If Rotti couldn't have Marni, then no one could, and he had seen to it in the most extreme way. Todd was ultimately carted off to Inmate Island, where he wasted away and fumed and took advantage of any chance he got to read something medical-related.

Now Todd was going back, to a daughter who had most likely grown up being told "Rotti Largo's Genius Blame of Sweeney Todd for Marnis' Murder" as a bedtime story. Rotti had probably pitted her against her biological father from the cradle. Nothing Todd could say would convince her to even like him, he was sure of it. And yet she was his daughter. The one thing left in this world that he loved most. Surely that counted for something.

_Well_, supposed Todd as he descended the gangway into the stinking harbor, _there have been stranger family reunions. _

_..._

I'm now a real college student (as in, living in a dorm away from home), in a college of my choice (not forced into because of money issues) so I should be focusing on my studies... WHO AM I KIDDING, I SAY THAT EVERY SEMESTER YET STILL ZONE OUT AND WRITE XDDD I have a lot of free time in between classes too so I should be able to update a lot more often for you guys. I don't deserve your patience! -huggles- Keep a lookout. Good luck to everyone in the coming school year!


	3. Chapter 3

So in my Art History class last night I finally started outlining the chapters after 8 (I was stuck -.-) and was inspired to write this today instead of studying =P Enjoy!

...

"Here we are, dear." Mrs. Lovett opened the door to what would be Shilos' new bedroom. Shilo stepped inside tentatively, peering around over the top of the box she was carrying. It was a lot smaller than her bedroom at Rottis' mansion, that was for sure. It possessed a certain old-fashioned charm all the same. The antique four-poster bed faced a gorgeous white marble fireplace. On the right wall was a desk that matched the bed. Directly to the left of the bed was a piano. The bay window next to that was already filled with cushions. Shilo fell in love with it immediately.

"Sorry about the piano. Got it for a good deal, and only partly singed in the church fire, but darned if I got home and didn't have any room downstairs for it," Mrs. Lovett went on, following Shilo into the room to put her own box down. "If you don't want it up here, I'm sure we could find something to do with it." She straightened up and brushed some copper curls out of her eyes with the back of her gloved hand.

"Oh no, it's okay," Shilo said. "I don't mind it up here. I like to play." Rotti at one point had tried to culture the children under his roof with dancing and music lessons. His own children had thrown enough fits to be withdrawn, but Shilo had begged to stay with the piano lessons - indeed, the only time she had begged from anything from the old man! But Shilo adored and welcomed the escape music offered her. Her adoptive siblings teased her cruelly about her lessons, but Shilo was never dissuaded from her passion.

"Do you now?" Mrs. Lovett looked sideways at Shilo with an amused expression. The younger woman nodded shyly. "Well, it's a good thing I brought it up here then. Come on, love, those boxes won't bring themselves up the stairs." The better part of the morning was spent going up and down said stairs, bringing Shilos' things up to her room. After a quick lunch break, they set about unpacking everything: hanging clothes, shelving books, arranging ornaments on the mantelpiece. Shilo would have rather done it herself, but she knew Mrs. Lovett was trying to help and get to know her better, so she didn't say anything.

Finally, sometime during the late afternoon, they finished. An aching Shilo collapsed on her newly-made bed as Mrs. Lovett stood and gathered the last of the boxes. Shilo looked around at her new room, satisfied with the days' work. _Now that I'm laying down, I might as well take a nap_, Shilo thought. Who knew moving was so tiring?

"You can have a quick rest, love," Mrs. Lovett said, as if catching Shilos' thoughts. "I'm going to go pick up Mr. To- your father. Then we'll have dinner when we get back. How's that sound?"

Shilo sat up, her mouth dry. "Great," she croaked weakly. Mrs. Lovett smiled and left the room, left Shilo with her pounding heart.

...

Half an hour later, the three of them sat down at the dining room table: the teenager, the convict, and the pie-maker. The silence was the most awkward Shilo had ever found herself in. How do you address the father you've never known owing to a prison sentence? She glanced to her left at him, where he sat at the head of the table. His head was down and he was pushing his peas into his mashed potatoes. His wild black hair obscured most of his face, but she could see his mouth set in a grim, thin line. The cuffs of his white shirt were just visible underneath the sleeves of his black leather jacket.

Shilo wondered why he was so well-dressed. What was he before he had gone to jail? Come to think of it, why _had_ he gone to jail? Rotti had told her that her father was a convict, but nothing farther than that, though Shilo had asked many times.

Just then, he looked up and into Shilo's eyes. She quickly looked down, back at her own plate, before she could read the emotion in them. Curious as she was, she couldn't just ask him outright. She doubted he would tell her.

"Everything okay, Shilo, dear?" Mrs. Lovett asked from across the table. Shilo looked up at her. _She's the only one at ease at this table_, Shilo thought. Mrs. Lovett was smiling at the young woman in a warm way, sitting relaxed in her chair; quite a contrast to the other two, who were held up straight with tension. "You don't like roast beef?" Mrs. Lovett added, a note of worry in her voice now.

"No, everything's great," Shilo protested half-heartedly, "It's just... I'm so tired... May I be excused?" Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her chair back, grabbed her nearly full plate to place by the kitchen sink, and fled the room. No one called her back.

...

I just love awkward dinners, don't you? XD Stay tuned, darlings!


	4. Chapter 4

I'M ON A ROLLLLLL notrllyIjustdon'twannastudy XD Enjoy.

...

The damp night air pressed upon Sweeney Todd as he made his way down the alley. Barely twenty minutes ago, he'd finished his dinner – the first with his daughter, and a complete disaster. He hadn't had a clue what he ought to have said. He'd caught her looking at him with a frank curiosity, though he could hardly imagine why. Rotti had told her everything about her father, hadn't he? Surely she'd heard what a horrible man he was, how he deserved to rot in prison? Shilo had certainly run from the room fast enough to confirm it. Todd scowled as he turned a corner, wishing once again that his enemy was alive.

His right hand, Cato Snake, was in perfect health though – at least, that's what Todd assumed, considering he'd gotten a call from the lawyer as he helped Mrs. Lovett to clear the table. He'd wanted to meet Todd in GeneCo's basement, though he hadn't said why. Todd wasn't a fool; of course it had occurred to him that Snake might be a lot less than friendly. Hidden beneath his coat was a small holster housing one of his straightrazors. Suddenly it occurred to Todd that it might not matter whether or not he used it in self defense. Who would believe a convict fresh off the boat over a lawyer? The irony - that the little thing that had landed him in prison for a framed murder might very well put him there again for defending himself - was not lost on the barber. Still, having the razor made Todd feel more secure.

Presently Todd arrived at GeneCo's back door. After making sure no one was around, he pulled the door open and slipped inside. The door swung shut behind him, and would have left him in complete darkness if not for the light at the bottom of the staircase he was standing atop. He descended the stairs and pushed open another door. It was white and pristine, with a single chair in the middle of the room; it looked more like a dentists' chair than anything, with leather straps attached to it. Todd made his way cautiously into the room.

"Good evening, Mr. Todd," a smooth, oiled voice made Todd jump and look around. Cato Snake leaned back on the wall in the far corner of the room, opposite the door. Todd had been so focused on the strange chair that he hadn't looked past it and noticed the lawyer. Snake straightened his lanky form, uncrossing his arms sheathed in a grey business suit, and started towards the barber.

"Snake," Todd said by way of greeting, straightening up some himself. He was _not_ here to be fooled with, and he wanted Snake to be well aware of it.

"Tell me, how was your first day as a newly freed man?" Snake smiled in what he clearly thought was a friendly manner, but it more closely resembled a leer. His nearly golden eyes glittered maliciously.

"Cut the crap, Snake. What do you want?" Todd snapped as the lawyer stopped in front of him. He now noticed because of their close proximity that Snake was a few inches taller than him. He did not like having to look up to glare in his face. It rather spoiled the effect.

"My, my, what manners." Snake jeered softly, "And to think I called you here about a job offer."

For the briefest instant, Todd was too stunned to say anything. _A job? From him?_ When he recovered himself, he spat, "You could've told me about this when you called. It would've saved me so much suspenseful agony." His sarcasm couldn't improve his chances, but he figured Snake deserved a taste of his own medicine.

"Oh, but this is a special top-secret job," Snake explained, still in that smoothly scornful tone, "What a disaster it would've been if a certain someone had overheard our little interview… like your daughter, perhaps." He grinned again, and it was obvious he thought the possibility was funny rather than grave.

"Leave Shilo out of it," Todd snarled.

"Temper, temper," chastised Snake, "Of course that's what I intend to do. And you too, if you know what's good for her." He then added, almost as an afterthought, "Though I'm sure you _don't_ know what's good for her, considering you were wasting away on Inmate Island her whole life."

The barber said nothing, instead quietly seething. Who was Snake, to tell him what was good for his own daughter? Yet his words rang with an unmistakable truth: he hadn't been there for his daughter. Though it was for reasons out of his own hands, he couldn't deny it. He glared up at Snake with a loathing that up until this point he had only reserved for Rotti. His trembling right hand twitched towards his razor.

"Are you mad at me?" Snake whispered, "Do you, perhaps, _hate_ me? Do you want to hurt me?" When Todd again didn't reply, he continued, "I'll take that as a yes. Good. You'll need that anger for the job I have for you."

"And _what_," Todd managed through his gritted teeth, "would that job be?"

"You, my fuming friend, are going to be my new Repoman."

Todd was again struck dumb. "You're kidding." Snake merely raised an eyebrow in amusement. "… You're not kidding." Todd realized out loud.

"Indeed not, Mr. Todd." The lawyer clasped his hands behind his back, rocking back on his heels. "As you may know, being GeneCo's Repoman requires you to repossess our organs from those who haven't paid for them. The lives of these careless customers are not important; the main objective is getting back our property."

"So, you want me to kill these people just so you won't lose money from a multi-billion dollar company?" asked the incredulous Todd.

"You said it, not me," Snake grinned in that awful way.

The barber shook his head, more out of disbelief than anything else. He had gone to jail framed for murder, he wasn't about to risk going again for actually murdering someone. _Multiple people,_ he realized, _Snake said lives. Who knows how many haven't paid! _No, no, it was absolutely out of the question.

"You're not interested." It wasn't a question. Todd shook his head again, wondering why Snake's smile had grown.

"Let me ask you this, Mr. Todd: How would you like those nasty charges against you cleared?"

Todd snorted, "No one can fix that, not even someone with an ego as big as yours."

Ignoring the insult, Snake said with a cool confidence, "Oh yes I can. Listen. Your case was a big one in this little city. For Christ's sake, you can't even walk down the street in broad daylight without someone pointing at you. Nevermind getting a job! No one will hire you with the ugly 'murderer' stigma hanging above your head." Snake paused for effect. "If you do this job for me, I make one call, and your record is wiped clean. Deal?"

Todd didn't answer right away. Something inside him was whispering, _Two wrongs don't make a right._ Murdering many to take one false murder out of his life was wrong. He could go to jail again. For forever this time, with no hope of ever seeing Shilo again. And yet…

What about the bloodlust? It had never left him, not since the night the police carried him kicking and screaming from his own home. For nearly eighteen years he had been dreaming of the perfect revenge. When Rotti died, nearly everything he had been living for died with him. The smoldering anger had branded itself upon his soul. Todd was certain he'd never be rid of it.

_This is it_, another voice inside him murmured, _this is your chance to have your revenge. If you can't have your vengeance on him, what's wrong with the rest of this miserable city?_ Yes. As long as he was stuck with the bloodlust, why try and suppress it when he could have a chance to use it? _And for something good_, he realized with a jolt. So he could finally be rid of those false charges. So he could see justice at last. So he could have a stab at a normal life. With Shilo. With his daughter.

"Do we have a deal?" Snake repeated, extending his hand.

Todd hesitated for a second longer. "Deal," he agreed, shaking hands.

"Excellent," Snake beamed in the way that didn't reach his hypnotic eyes. "I'll have some supplies mailed to you. You'll be expected to start tomorrow night." He let go of Todd's hand as the barber nodded his understanding. Both men turned away from each other to leave. Todd had just grasped the doorknob when the light went out. He heard Snake speak one last time from across the room in his quiet, oily voice:

"Oh, and do be sure to think of something to do with the bodies. I'd hate to litter our fine city."

...

*LE GASP* Leave me alone I'm tired XD They only had decaf coffee at breakfast this morning OH WHAT A WORLD. I'll just slink off to bed now - yeah right XD Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

Sorry again for the wait, dears, I've been working really hard on my vids lately. Enjoy!

...

Shilo's backpack hit the floor with a thump. The girl followed suit, flinching a little at the cold, hard stone against her legs. She rested her elbows on her knees, propped her delicate chin on her fists, and looked straight ahead at her mom with a distantly thoughtful expression.

Oh, of course her mom was dead. Shilo was sitting in her mausoleum, and by "her mom," she meant "her mom's coffin." Shilo had been coming here for years, at first trying to establish some sort of post-humous mother/daughter relationship. As she grew older she realized this was in vain, and so started coming simply to be alone in the quiet, away from Rotti and his hideously snobby children.

It really was thanks to them she got to see her mother at all. One day when Shilo was about 5, the 7-year-old Amber had been teasing Shilo about her lack of a proper family. Shilo had been most upset, as she had up until that point believed that the Largo family was her real family. She'd gone to Rotti in tears. He had patiently explained that yes, she was adopted, because her mother had died and her dad was away (it wasn't until she was older that Shilo found out he was in jail). Little Shilo was curious and had wanted to see her mom, but due to her condition couldn't go out to visit the cemetery. Rotti had an underground tunnel built from his mansions' basement to Marni's mausoleum so Shilo could visit as she wished.

Today, about a week after she'd moved in, Shilo had been exploring Mrs. Lovett's house and found a door to the cellar. There, she discovered a big chamber containing the biggest oven she'd ever seen, a meat grinder big enough to hold a whole cow. It was none other than the bakehouse where Mrs. Lovett made the pies she sold in her shop next door. The young woman began to explore it out of boredom and soon discovered that it connected to the sewers (what a smell that came up! Shilo had to cover her nose with her sleeve to keep from gagging) as well as the network of tunnels beneath the city. On a whim she'd decided to visit her mom. Partly this was out of guilt – she hadn't done so in a while – and partly because she felt Mom ought to know about the recent huge changes in her daughter's life. Shilo tapped her lips with fingernails painted black, not quite knowing where to begin. The habit of talking aloud to her mother's tomb had never quite been broken.

"Well, Mom," she said at last, her voice echoing slightly off the stone, "Rotti's dead. The doctor said it was a heart attack or something. Luigi, Pavi, and Amber looked like they thought it was about time, but I feel a little sorry. He did take care of me my whole life. Anyway, Amber inherited GeneCo, to everyone's surprise. I didn't think she had enough brains in her to run it even for this past week." She paused, feeling like Mom, or her ghost, would be reprimanding Shilo for the insult. "Well, it doesn't matter anyway. I never cared about GeneCo in the first place and I'm really glad _I_ didn't inherit it." She pretended Mom was asking what she was doing now that her guardian was dead.

"That's the weirdest part, Mom. I moved out and now I'm living with a lady named Mrs. Lovett – wait, didn't you used to know her? Weren't you neighbors or something?" Realizing that she didn't know what Mom thought of Mrs. Lovett, she went on, "She has a nice house. Nothing like the Largo mansion, but nice enough. It's just me there, and Mrs. Lovett, and… and Dad." Shilo said the word reluctantly, as if it was foreign. In many ways, it was. She'd never called anyone "Dad" in her life, not even Rotti. Distant Sweeney Todd didn't feel like a dad any more than Rotti had, but as he was her biological father she felt an obligation to address him as such. Yet at the same time she couldn't bring herself to. It felt too familiar, even borderline disrespectful, after a lifetime of not knowing each other. It felt rude, too, to call him "Mr. Todd," which was the only other possibility she came up with. In compromise she had avoided addressing him altogether for the past week.

A noise outside the mausoleum made Shilo jump: a dull bass thud that made the very floor quiver with fright. She slowly got to her feet and went to the door. She had to stand on her toes to see out the little window, and grasped the small sill with her white fingers to steady herself.

It was a clear night, for once, though the damp still clung to everything. The light of the half-moon cast a pale glow over the cemetery outside, throwing sparkles back from the dewdrops on the grass, leaves of the ivy, petals of flowers. Moonlight swooned onto the gravestones, glistening off the newer ones and being absorbed by the older ones. This kind of beauty was unexpected in the middle of the city. It was one of two things enough to take Shilos' breath away. The other thing of course being the man bending over a grave.

The young woman gasped and sank down, her heels inches from the floor. Only her wide eyes and pale forehead were above the windowsill now, allowing her to watch without being seen. This must be one of those graverobbers she'd heard about. They plundered graves in the dead of night, not for riches, but for zydrate: an illegal drug harvested from the brains of corpses. His back was turned to her, but he was quite close: across the path, one row to the left and the second plot in. The grave he attended to was fresh; Shilo could see the churned earth from her vantage point. The unsteadiness of the turned dirt – or the graverobbers' strength – had caused the headstone to fall and make the noise that had scared her. Surely someone else had heard? What if the police came? The graverobber was very brave, or else very stupid, to continue after making such a noise.

He straightened just then, causing Shilo to instinctively lower herself again. Unfortunately, her ankles were shaking from standing on her toes for so long. She lurched, lost her balance, and fell against the door. To her surprise it swung open. Shilo found herself in a heap out on the mausoleum step. She gasped again in horror, drawing in air she wasn't supposed to breathe.

The graverobber whirled around, hastily shoving a small something into the inside of his big coat. His eyes landed on Shilo. For the briefest instant they stared at each other in shock. Then his face spread open in a grin that Shilo found very hard to read… or was that just because her vision had gone out of focus?

"Well, well," he said, stepping towards the shaking Shilo, "out for a little night air, are we, sweetheart?"

"I'm not – supposed - to be – outside!" Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? Was it terror or her condition?

"Indeed not, my dear, not with people like me around." His chunky boots stopped right in front of Shilo. He squatted down and Shilo looked up into his sneering face… err, faces. Seeing double, that could not be good.

"No, please," Shilo moaned, when her muddled mind caught his meaning. She curled up into a tighter ball and reached for her left jacket pocket, imploring, "Leave me alone, I won't tell anyone you were here, I promise -,"

"Now you've insulted me." He sounded disgusted and amused at the same time. "I doubt you have what I want, anyway. Or," his eyebrows shot up as Shilos' watch started shrilling its' "Medicate immediately" message, "Depending on what you have, I might be interested after all." Through the scrim of blackness gathering at the edges of her vision, Shilo saw his hand inching towards her pocket, out of which she was trying to extricate her emergency bottle of medicine.

A sirens' sudden shriek made them both jump. The graverobber leapt up as though electrocuted. He looked to his left, towards the cemetery entrance, with a frightened expression. Loud, angry voices reached them. He spun around, looking for a way out. Shilo looked up at him in alarm. _Don't leave me like this!_

As if hearing her mental cry, he looked back down at her. "Sorry, kid. Those cops'll just slap ya on the wrist with a curfew fine and take ya home. They won't take me somewhere so nice." He whirled around and ran for it, disappearing between the headstones.

Shilos' panic escalated. She would never get back to Mrs. Lovetts': she would die right here in front of her mothers' mausoleum. Again she tugged at the bottle in her pocket, but it felt heavy as lead. Her arm felt on fire yet moved as if through deep water. Perversely her heart and breathing sped up, trying in vain to keep her alive. _Don't bother_, she told her body wearily as another part screamed, _Don't give up!_

A kaleidoscope of color gradually filled Shilos' dimming vision. Reds and blues of police lights never seemed so vivid before. A confusion of motion and voices barreled her shrinking senses, too weak to focus on any one thing. _Help me_, she wanted to say, but she didn't know if she had a voice anymore. Instead she kept thinking it, hoping it would be enough even as her hope dwindled.

One figure came forward and kneeled in front of her, exactly as the graverobber had done. Shilos' eyes widened again but it didn't help erase the blackness mostly obscuring her vision. That mask… she had seen it before, yet she couldn't remember where or why it filled her with such terror. She could see the eyes behind it. They seemed to be as empty of emotion as she was overflowing with it, drowning in it. That was the last thought she had before the darkness swallowed her, and she felt no more.

…

When Shilo opened her eyes, she spent a moment staring at her canopy. Vaguely and inexplicably, she wondered why she was alive. Events of the night before rushed back, and she sat up with a start.

"Easy there, Shilo," the gentle voice nearly gave the agitated youth a heart attack. She looked around and saw Mrs. Lovett sitting on the piano bench. She got up and moved to the bed to comfort her charge. "Hey, it's all right. You're safe now. A little worse for wear for fainting in a graveyard, but there you are."

It seemed rather melodramatic to say, "I should be dead." Instead Shilo blurted, "But I shouldn't be here." She then winced because it sounded just as ludicrous.

"Of course you should be here, where else would you be?" Mrs. Lovett crooned, reaching up to stroke Shilos' hair. It did nothing to calm her down.

"But the Repoman was there, I saw him, he looked at me before I blacked out –"

Mrs. Lovett cut her off by laughing. "Oh, my dear, you must've hit your head when you fell!"

"I didn't imagine him!" Shilo insisted.

"Of course not, dear," Mrs. Lovett said absently, in a light tone that made Shilo certain she didn't believe her at all. The older woman patted her cheek and asked, "But Shilo, what were you doing in the cemetery anyway? You know you're not supposed to be outside in your condition."

Shilo gaped at her. "You know about my illness?" Mrs. Lovett nodded. "How?"

"That lawyer friend of yours told me all about it before you came to live here," she replied.

"Mr. Snake?" Mrs. Lovett nodded again. Shilo fell silent. Of course Mrs. Lovett would have to know about her disease to take her in. But Shilo felt guilty and ashamed about it. It was enough that Mrs. Lovett was saddled with practically a teenage stranger, let alone with a disease on top of it all. And with everything she had to do to run her shop…

"You never answered my question, dear," Mrs. Lovett reminded her, gently tugging Shilo out of her reverie. "What were you doing in the cemetery? And how did you get out of the house?"

"I was visiting my mom," Shilo admitted, feeling a little foolish. Mrs. Lovett smiled in an understanding way, and Shilo rushed on, "I got there from the tunnels in the cellar." From the way Mrs. Lovetts' face hardened, she knew this was the wrong thing to say.

"Which cellar?" The older woman demanded. Shilo thought this was a very odd question. What house has more than one cellar?

"The one with the oven inside," she said.

"You went into my bakehouse?" Mrs. Lovett frowned. "From the door between the house and my shop?" This question perplexed Shilo further. There _had_ been one other door down there, but that one was locked so she couldn't have known where it led. She had gotten to the cemetery through the connecting tunnels. But she decided it was best to be honest, and she nodded. To her relief, Mrs. Lovett relaxed.

"I'm sorry," Shilo said, meaning it, "I didn't know it was off-limits."

"Oh, the fault is mine, dear. I ought to have told you. But no harm done, and at least you're safe." She patted Shilos' hand. Shilo wondered suddenly why Mrs. Lovett was so touchy-feely. "But don't go running off again, okay?" Shilo nodded again. They sat in silence for a while.

"Oh! I've just had an idea," Mrs. Lovett exclaimed, standing up. "How would you like to work in the shop with me? You'll earn a bit of money and it'll keep you busy."

"Oh…" Shilo wasn't sure. She'd never worked a day in her life, growing up in the lap of luxury. She didn't know if she'd be any good at it.

"Don't you worry, dear, you'll be starting out small. Sweeping the floor, wiping up tables, things like that. Getting the drink for the monthly customer. Not like we'll be very busy any time soon." Yet she smiled in a little weird way, like she knew a secret Shilo didn't. "I'll show you how, it isn't hard. What do you say?" She looked so eager, so hopeful. _She's trying so hard to make me feel at home_, Shilo realized. A warm rush of feeling suddenly welled up in her. For the first time in her life, Shilo felt wanted.

"Okay," she said simply. But the way Mrs. Lovett beamed, and the way the warmth flared up in her chest again, Shilo might have given her the sun.

...

D'aww. I felt like ending this on a fluffy note after watching Justice League S3 E15. Now THERE'S a fluffy ending for ya. X3 Glad I don't have a roommate anymore to look at me funny when I squee. XD Stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 6

My apologies darlings, midterms got in the way of my updating D= This chapter may be a bit scary to some of the younger or more sensitive veiwers, so please read at your own risk. Enjoy!

...

Darkness fell, but one unfortunate soul had fallen into it. Literally – one moment he was sitting down for a shave, the next he found himself being pitched backwards without time to cry out in surprise. Eventually he woke up in a darkness so complete he might as well have not opened his eyes. He quickly realized three things: his clothes were gone, he had a bad headache, and he was bound to a chair that felt like a dentists'. But not even a dentists' chair would inspire so much fear. Leather straps cut into his skin, pinning his ankles to the back of the footrest, his wrists to the armrests. One even formed a noose around his neck, restricting his breathing and preventing him from turning his head at all. The plastic bar gagging him might have been kinky in another situation. He gnawed at it anxiously, absentmindedly. _Why me?_ he kept asking himself, uselessly.

Wait! What was that? A long, scraping noise sounded behind him, followed by an ominous thud. Steps then, and coming closer all the time, as if down a staircase. The captive broke into a cold sweat. There was a swish, as if from a curtain, a shuffle he couldn't identify. He went faint with fear, finding himself almost thankful for the bonds holding up his limp body.

Light suddenly flooded the room, shocking feeling back into his limbs effectively as electricity. It stabbed savagely into his unsuspecting eyes. He gave a little cry, and closed his eyes tight. Deciding a split second later that this was a bad idea, he forced them open even though tears of dazzlement streamed down his cheeks. He made out a stone wall, plain and rough and blurred from his tears. The natural texture was a fascination to him; he had been born and raised in the city and had never seen one before. He wondered again where the hell he was.

The steps started again behind him, closer than ever. The captive's train of thought broke instantly. All his senses honed in on the single noise, his body shivering with effort and fear. His eyes rolled back and forth, straining in vain to see what was coming. The pounding of his heart nearly drowned out the growing footsteps. He flexed his arms against the straps uselessly; the bonds were still too tight.

With a climactic resounding clap, the steps stopped. A breathless moment passed. A gloved hand grasped the chair, right above the prisoners' right shoulder. His eyes fell on it and didn't move from it. They hurt from the effort of looking at it, but somehow it seemed essential to keep it in view. The chair slowly swiveled around. Soon he was able to see a wrist, an arm and shoulder swathed in a shiny black coat, dead eyes behind a mask. The captives' eyes grew bigger and bigger, leaking liquid terror. They'd found him. He'd stopped paying for his lung after losing his job. Had to eat somehow. But that didn't matter. The Repoman had come to take it back.

His final scream was cut off by a razors' slash.

…

Sweeney Todd paid no attention to the screams. In fact, he might even say he was immune to them. During his time in prison, some of the borderline insane inmates frequently shrieked in their sleep. At first it was enough to keep him up all night, not only from the noise but also from the utter hopelessness of their cries. Learning to ignore them was like learning to choke down the horrid food and not make eye contact with those gangbangers in the corner: hard at first, but gradually becoming habit. It simply faded into the background of prison life as he got used to it. This immunity enabled Sweeney to think about something else, even as he rooted around in a corpse's intestines.

Shilo, naturally, was the something else. He'd been watching her for the past week, trying to get to know her, too shy yet to ask anything. She was a quiet girl, often in the company of a book. The other morning he'd stumbled across her reading in the bay window of the living room. She'd been so absorbed in her book that she hadn't looked up. Instead she kept on, twirling a lock of black hair around her finger as she read. The gray morning light fell on her pale skin, making her almost glow. It was a scene so private and beautiful that he'd backed out into the hallway. He felt like an intruder in her life even as he had a claim to it.

At mealtimes, she was always very polite, still quiet. Too soon he discovered this was only around him; just last night he'd overheard her chattering to Mrs. Lovett as they washed the dinner dishes. A flash of jealousy ripped through him, searing and sudden. But he supposed he couldn't blame her. Opening up to another woman must be easier for young girls, especially when the only other person in the house was her convict father. Still, he couldn't help feeling disappointed. He'd hoped foolishly in prison to come home to a loving daughter. Stupid, yes, but a hope all the same.

Aha! Finally, Sweeney had the lung. He cut it free of the trachea and held it up to look at the serial number on the bottom. Checking it against the case file confirmed it the correct, unpaid-for organ. He dumped it – blood and all – into a plastic bag to be taken back to GeneCo. It was their property again, after all. He then unstrapped the useless body from the chair and hauled it to the far right corner of the room. Elbowing a certain spot in the stone wall opened a secret door. There was a dark, narrow chamber on the other side. Sweeney dropped the corpse inside with a grunt; it still astonished him how heavy they were. He supposed it could've been worse. If he hadn't worked out in prison, he wouldn't be able to lift and carry it with as much ease. He backed out of the room and elbowed the secret switch again, closing the hidden door.

Holding his gloved hands aloft so he wouldn't touch anything, he made his way back to the entrance. Just before the stairs, he ducked to his right through a plastic curtain. This was his changing room. Hanging on the right wall were a couple more sets of Repo suits, boots on the floor, masks on nails near the ceiling. A counter ran the length of the left wall, case files strewn from his overturned bag. Above the counter hung various surgical instruments of every size, sparkling savagely in the light. Against the wall opposite the door was a large sink, longer than a utility sink but shorter than a bathtub. This is where he rinsed his Repo suit after a job. Both the sink and counter stopped short of the left corner. A convenient pipe overhead let him hang the coat and pants up to drip-dry into the grate below. But first, the gloves. He lifted the faucet with his forearm to run the cold water.

Sweeney received a shock as he watched the blood run off his gloves. Suddenly, he saw his hands eighteen years ago, dripping with his wife's blood. Marni's blood. The image was so vivid that he flinched violently, flinging red water drops onto his mask.

Blood could condemn. It had secured his prison sentence despite his innocence. It had drenched his dreams for eighteen years as he lusted for revenge. And now, because they shared it, his own daughter no doubt scorned him.

And yet it could cleanse. Don't cuts bleed just to wash away any harmful bacteria? One might say that was all he was doing. Purging the city of irresponsible citizens, who don't pay on time. Cleansing it of corruption.

Sweeney snorted as he shook the gloves of excess water. _Hell, I_ am _corruption. Might as well throw myself down there with case 784._ He unzipped the jacket and turned around to shrug it into the sink. He diligently ran it back and forth under the running water before hanging it in the corner. Then came off the boots, the pants, which were also rinsed and placed on the floor near the drain and hung up. Finally, he removed the mask, shaking his head with relief. Just as he was about to pass it under the water, he paused. He'd caught his reflection in the plastic eyepiece. He brought it closer for a better look. The bloody water splatter distorted the image of his eyes. Some dotted his forehead like a disease. A particularly red drop ran down the mask exactly as a tear would. He looked pale and lost. Grief suddenly gripped him. He slowly washed the blood away and hung it on the corner of the sink. He then held his hands under the water to give the gloves a final rinse.

_It doesn't matter how much blood I spill for her,_ he thought as he draped the gloves over the side of the sink, _Shilo won't think of me any different. She'll never want me for a dad._

...

Midterms are over for me, yay =3 This was a good chapter to write. Had some feelings to vent. Reviews are greatly appreciated, and keep a lookout for the next chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

I can't think of anything to say here so just read on and enjoy =P

...

Despite Shilos' initial doubts about working in the pie shop, she found she actually liked it. Only a week into her new job, she was certainly not a floor-sweeping, drink-serving, table-wiping pro, but she at least had the hang of things. It helped a lot that they weren't very busy. Only about a handful of customers came in every day: mostly older men who gave Shilo the eye as she served them. Still, she and Mrs. Lovett had a lot of free time. They spent it talking and laughing with each other, developing a special bond.

"I suppose we'd better do something to spruce up the place," Mrs. Lovett thought aloud one day as she bent over the oven. Shilo surveyed the shop from her stool. She sat at the island at the back of the room. Behind her was the smaller oven that Mrs. Lovett used to bake little batches of pies during the day. The counter itself was cluttered with mixing bowls, rolling pins, and baking sheets, a dusting of flour over all. It was the messiest place in the room. Shilo had just gone over the tables before she sat down. She had cleaned the windows, too; the musty curtains were drawn back, letting the gray morning light in the shop. It didn't add much to the already monochromatic feel of the room. Though she liked the shop, Shilo had to agree with Mrs. Lovett. It was a bit gloomy even for their regular surly customers. "We should be able to swing for a couple of knick-knacks now that Mr. Todd has been working some," the older woman continued, straightening and brushing some curls out of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"He has a job?" Shilo swung round to face her. She hadn't meant to sound so surprised, but she _had_ wondered what he did all day. He was gone when Shilo went downstairs for breakfast and was usually home for dinner. Shilo always retreated to her room after dinner, so it was hard to tell what he did in the evenings. Sometimes she would hear him and Mrs. Lovett talking downstairs; others she would hear Mrs. Lovett humming to herself as she read; still others she would hear just plain silence, which could mean any number of things.

The pie-maker laughed, "Of course he does! What did you think he did with his time?" Meeting Shilos' guilty look with amusement, she explained, "He's got a barber shop right above us, dear. Go on up and have a look. I haven't seen anyone go up for a while so you shouldn't be interrupting anything."

Shilo was more curious than apprehensive about being alone with her father for the first time. She met Mrs. Lovetts' encouraging smile with one of her own and hopped off the stool. Mrs. Lovett waved to her right, to the back door. Shilo opened it and stepped out onto the patio, which was looking forlorn with the chairs on top of the tables. She wondered if anyone had ever eaten out here. To Shilos' immediate right, along the side of the building, was a staircase. She climbed it quickly, still a bit fearful of the outside air after the graveyard incident. She pushed open the door at the top and the little bell tinkled.

Sweeney Todd looked up, directly at her. He was standing in the middle of the room, behind his barbers' chair. The light from huge window behind him fell on the floor but threw his face into shadow. It filtered through the sleeves of his white shirt, shone on his shoes. His vest and pants were dark. Once her eyes adjusted a little, she saw that he was surprised to see her there. Shilos' inquisitiveness dissolved into awkwardness.

"I – I'm sorry," she stammered, "Mrs. Lovett said it would be okay to come up… I just wanted to look around…" Her voice trailed off as she blushed and stared at the floor.

After a short silence, he said quietly, "It's okay, Shilo. I don't mind." She looked up at him again. There was a sadness in his face, or was that only a trick of the light? He lowered his head before she could decide, going back to stropping his razor. The gentle scraping of steel over leather filled the otherwise silent room as Shilo walked around, looking.

She went in a circle around the edge of the room, starting to her left, keeping the barber and his chair in the center. She ran her hand along the top of the big chest next to the door. Her reflection fractured in the cracked full-length mirror in the far left corner. From the huge window directly opposite the door, she could see the sprawl of the city, GeneCo Tower rising above it all.

Shilo paused when she came to the dresser in the far right corner of the room. Arranged across the top were barbers' tools: brushes, colognes, shaving cream. The pots and labels looked a bit old-fashioned, but nothing more than the razors. They rested in their case, nestled snugly in the red velvet. She reached into the case and drew a finger along the handle of one. Her slim, pale finger rose and fell with the relief of the carvings with ease. They gleamed like new even as they radiated antiquity. Her dark eyes followed the line the edge of the lid made as it leaned against the mirror. Next to the case, also against the mirror, was a picture frame.

Something in the photo held Shilos' attention, and she looked closer. An older version of herself smiled up at her. _But it's not me,_ Shilo realized, _it's Mom._ Though from the curve of her tummy, Mom was pretty pregnant with Shilo. She sat on one of the walkways along the ocean, her legs dangling over the side. The wind blew her dark hair out behind her head, hair the exact shade of Shilos'. One hand rested on her round stomach, excitement for the coming baby stretching her lips and crinkling her eyes.

A hot and bittersweet feeling came over Shilo, and she bit her lip to stop the sudden surge of tears. She had never seen a picture of her mother before. Without thinking, she reached for the frame, grasping it to bring it closer. But it resisted, and she pulled a little harder. The razor case lid slammed shut. She jumped at the noise. It was a folding picture frame, and the left frame had been hidden behind the lid. Holding it apologetically, reverently, in both hands, she brought it closer for a better look.

In the left frame was another photo of Mom, but this time she was with a young man. They stood on the steps to an impressive-looking building on a rare sunny day. They were dressed nicely: Mom in a bright sundress and white spring jacket, the young man in a dress shirt and slacks. His right arm was slung over her shoulder. Mom returned the embrace, her left arm around his waist and her right pressing against his chest. Both were laughing.

"That's your mother and I on our wedding day," the soft voice in Shilos' ear made her jump again. She turned her head to look at her father over her left shoulder. He was looking at the picture with a pained sadness; she could see it clearly in his face now. "We didn't have money for a big affair, so we got married at City Hall. Neither of us minded, though." His voice was barely more than a whisper when he finished. After a short pause, he went on, "And in the other frame is the last picture I ever took of her. She was sick a lot while pregnant with you, but that day she was feeling well enough to go out. It was about a week before she – she died." Again he finished in a whisper heavy with sorrow.

One thing in particular stuck with Shilo. "This is you?" There she went again, sounding ridiculously surprised. She looked at the picture again and studied the man – her father. Yes, there was the nose. His hair looked shorter, better groomed. "But you look so much -," unable to find the right word, she settled on, "- younger."

"Eighteen years in prison'll do that to you." She looked back up at him, struck anew at the difference between the picture and reality. The man in the picture was laughing, radiant and optimistic. The man at her shoulder stared out of dull eyes, and a gray pallor hung about him. Not of illness, not a physical one anyway. He was alive but not living. Prison couldn't do that much.

Father looked at daughter then. His eyes widened, as if seeing her for the first time. He flinched and took a step back. Confused, Shilo turned fully towards him.

"I'm sorry, Shilo." He said, blinking. "It's just… you look so much like her."

"I never knew," she murmured, her eyes falling back to the picture because the intensity in his made her uncomfortable. "I never had a picture of her. Rotti gave me anything I ever wanted but he never gave me a picture of my mother." Shilos' throat closed up and she couldn't say any more. For the first time, she truly saw what she had lost. Suppose she had grown up with this laughing couple instead of a cold business giant and his bratty children. Her whole life would have been different. _She_ would have been different. There wouldn't have been a lot of money, perhaps, but they would have at least had each other. They would have had love and laughter, something never heard in the Largo mansion.

_Maybe Rotti was right not to tell me anything about my mother,_ she caught herself thinking, _now that I know what I missed, I want it more than ever._ Shilo gripped the picture frame tighter to stop her hands from shaking. The pictures blurred before her.

"Shilo… for what it's worth… I'm sorry -,"

The teenager shook her head, not because she disagreed but just to get him to stop talking. She was sorry too, but couldn't say so. Grief was closing her throat. Shilo hastily thrust the picture frame back onto the dresser. It clattered into place as she turned and fled the barber shop. She needed to get back to her room before all her tears broke loose.

...

Poor Shi ;-; I'll be busy this weekend and most likely I won't be updating anything beforehand, so have a happy and safe Halloween =D Reviews are appreciated; stay tuned!


	8. Chapter 8

I have like 3 papers to write lol what am I doing on Fanfiction. XD Enjoy.

...

Sweeney could only watch, stunned, as Shilo ran from his shop. He had been about to apologize for being in prison and missing out on her whole life. He wanted to say he was sorry for not being a real father. That he was sorry for everything. But she'd stopped him before he'd even started. _She hates me that much? _Desperate despair swept over him, so complete it took his breath away. He threw out a hand and gripped the dresser, leaning on it to keep from collapsing. _She thinks I'm a monster._

_And it's Rotti's fault,_ he remembered. The hand on the dresser clenched into a fist. _He murdered my wife and turned my own daughter against me. He took away everything I lived for, even my own revenge. If he was alive right now… _His thoughts dissolved in a whirlwind of blood. Once, twice, three times his fist pounded the dresser, with enough force to upset some of his bottles and tip over the precious picture frame. _The son of a bitch would pay._

Just then he heard footsteps outside on the stairs. Sweeney straightened, took a deep breath, stood the bottles up again to try and calm down. It didn't help much. But by the time the bell above the door chimed, he had managed to arrange his face into a pleasant, businesslike smile. The customer hesitated for the briefest instant, unnerved by something in his eyes. But the barber came forward, sat the customer down, and draped the sheet around him in a hospitable manner. He relaxed just before the chair tipped backwards, and he was pitched headfirst into darkness.

Sweeney was halfway across the shop before the chair even righted itself. The Open sign flipped to Closed as he slammed the door shut behind him. As he stormed down to the cellar, he almost hoped his victim needed something repoed. Otherwise he might have almost felt sorry for him.

…

Turns out the victim hadn't paid for his heart transplant. Sweeney straddled his victim instead of using the chair, enjoying the way it squirmed under him as he ripped open the shirt. He cut into the chest without killing him first, reveling in the screams. Rage had turned the quiet barber into a sadistic monster. Blood gushed forth, cascading from the hole in his prisoners' chest, and he delighted in it. When he cut the heart from the main artery, blood squirted up and splashed onto the mask. The barber would have flinched, but the Repoman merely laughed with a sick joy. The heart beat once more, feebly, and then went still as it was dragged from the corpse. The Repoman stood and held it up to the harsh florescent lights: a sacrifice to a dark and avengeful God. But from the way he laughed, the maniacal look in the eyes behind the mask, he might have been the devil himself.

...

I think he snapped, hbu? =D XD I had a little more outlined for this chapter, but I like the way it ended there. =P Reveiws are appreciated, stay tuned!


	9. Chapter 9

I finished a paper and decided on topics/started outlining my next 2 so this is justified =P Enjoy!

...

A hollowness filled Shilo when she woke up the next morning. She lay on her left side, staring blankly at the wall. The encounter with her father yesterday had left her drained. It had unearthed feelings she wasn't even aware she had. Deep down, she had missed her mother, had wished for a warm figure to light up her cold and lonely childhood. She had never allowed those feelings to surface before, and now she knew why. She had spent yesterday crying in her room, feeling sorry for herself.

Slightly to her surprise, she pitied her father, too. The difference between the man in the picture and the man in her life had deeply affected her. Being stuck in prison was deteriorating to a person, she supposed, but her father seemed shattered. He was only a shade of the laughing man in the picture. Something more had robbed him of his smile, his vitality, his very soul. She wondered if that was something that could be fixed.

The door creaked open behind her. "Shilo, dear?" Mrs. Lovetts' voice came across the room, quiet and tentative. Shilo rolled over guiltily; she had left Mrs. Lovett in the shop by herself without an explanation. There hadn't been time for one, and besides, this was something she had to deal with alone. The older woman pushed the door open and came into the room when she saw Shilo sitting up. She perched herself gently on the edge of the bed. Her face was pinched with concern as she reached up and felt Shilos' forehead.

"Are you all right, Shilo? You've been in bed since yesterday. Are you sick? Do you need to go to the doctor?" The teenager shook her head. "Did something happen with you and Mr To- your father?" Mrs. Lovetts' voice grew increasingly frantic, "He didn't hurt you, did he?"

"No." Shilo's voice was hoarse from crying, "He didn't do anything. He just-," she gulped, for even thinking about it threatened tears, and she was done with crying, "He had a picture of Mom. I'd never seen her before. I guess… I guess it just made me miss her in a whole new way." Despite her resistance, two fresh tears escaped Shilos' eyes. Mrs. Lovett cupped her cheeks and gently wiped them away with her thumbs.

"Oh, my dear," Mrs. Lovett whispered, soft with pity, "I'm so sorry you had to grow up without a mother. I know it's hard. But she died so many years ago. It's in the past, love, and we need to move past it. I still miss her too, sometimes."

"You were friends?" For a fleeting moment, fascination gripped Shilo instead of the self-pity.

The pie-makers' face tightened, and Shilo immediately felt guilty for asking. "Once upon a time." She gathered Shilo into her arms, pressing the teenager to her chest as if she were a small child. Shilo had never been embraced like this before, and closed her eyes to enjoy the sensation. "Life is for the alive, my dear," Mrs. Lovett murmured.

Shilo thought this over. Her mother was gone, but that was no reason to let that loss rule her life. If she let it, the grief that had rocked her yesterday would confine her forever. _It would destroy me, like it destroyed my father._ She startled at that thought, because of the sudden truth in it. Now she knew the something else that had robbed him of his soul: grief. And probably it was worse for him, losing his freedom, his wife, and his daughter. He had sat in prison for eighteen years while Shilo had grown up in a family many people would kill to be a part of. But she would have traded it all just for a day with the joyful newlyweds in the photograph. Somehow she knew that he would do the same.

"Besides, aren't we a family now?" Mrs. Lovett continued, now starting to stroke Shilos' hair, "You, me, and Mr. Todd? We're together now. That's all that matters." For a bleak moment, Shilo wondered what a family really was. A group of people bound not only by blood, but by grief and suffering too?

But no, that couldn't be it. Mrs. Lovett was here, comforting her. Surely she wouldn't do that if she weren't fond of Shilo. And of course she was fond of Mrs. Lovett as well. Already she was a different girl than she had been at the Largo mansion. After only two weeks, she felt more confident, more outgoing. Perhaps she might become close with her father, too. Perhaps in time, he might be healed like she was healing. Shilo slipped her arms around Mrs. Lovetts' waist and squeezed gently. _We're all still grieving, but we're not alone anymore._

...

The sobfest is done after this chapter, I swear. XD Reviews are much appreciated; stay tuned!


	10. Chapter 10

Five day break, w00! Enjoy =)

...

Sweeney pushed open the door to the White Room in GeneCo's basement. It was bright and pristine as ever. Also empty: Snake hadn't arrived yet. The door swung shut behind him as he started pacing, reviewing the speech in his head.

_I'm done, Snake,_ he would say, _I'm not doing your dirty work anymore. Get someone else to be your Repoman._ He had lost control yesterday. It terrified him to think of how close Shilo was. If she hadn't left when she did… he shuddered. The possibilities were too appalling to even contemplate. He could not – would not – risk losing it like that around her. He would not risk hurting her. If he did, he would never forgive himself. Hadn't life hurt them both enough?

"Mr. Todd." The smooth voice made Sweeney jump and look around. Snake was standing in the entrance at the far corner of the room. The bright light glinted off his silvering black hair, his polished shoes. He pulled the door shut behind him and strode towards the barber. "To what do I owe this little pleasure?" He smirked a little, ironically.

"It's over, Snake," Sweeney said flatly, looking straight up into the lawyer's hazel eyes, "I quit, I'm done, however else you want to put it." For a moment, Snake's characteristic cool expression slipped, and he looked astonished. Then he recovered and resumed his usual half-sneer.

"Oh dear, this _does_ present a problem. You signed a contract, remember? A _binding_ contract. Do we need to review it already? I need you to be my Repoman -,"

"Sucks for you then, because I quit," Sweeney retorted.

"But what about your freedom?" Snake grinned maliciously. "You haven't forgotten that bit, surely."

"What's the point?" blurted the barber, "Shilo hates me. And if I have to give up my freedom for her, then I will." He was embarrassed to have said so much, but still he didn't break his gaze. He had made his decision, and would stick by it.

"Let me guess. You almost lost your famous temper around her, didn't you?" Sweeney didn't answer, but it was plain enough in his expression. "So you're giving up?" Snake inquired, softly sarcastic, "After one mishap?"

"I'm not giving up," snarled Sweeney, "I'm doing this for her own good."

"Ah, so you're protecting her?" The lawyer's golden eyes glinted with amusement. The barber glared back, eyes dark with hate. "I would not have expected excuses from a man like you."

"Excuses?" Sweeney screeched.

"Yes, Mr. Todd, excuses." Snake spat the last word, "You say you want to protect your daughter, but it's just an excuse. You're not trying hard enough to get to know her, and it irks you. Did you honestly think that you could build a relationship with her, just like that? These things take time… time you obviously don't want to invest."

Sweeney looked away. As much as he hated to admit it, Snake was making sense. He had perfectly hit the source of Sweeney's frustration. He and Shilo had eighteen years to catch up on. That wasn't going to happen overnight, and certainly not in a couple of weeks. He would just have to be a little more patient, that's all. And a lot more controlling of his temper and bloodlust.

Snake went on, "So if you'd rather, I can arrange for you to go back to prison tonight."

"No." Sweeney looked back up at Snake. "No, I wouldn't rather."

"Good." Snake clapped him on the shoulder, looking at once relieved and encouraging, or as close as he could get, "It would have been a waste to send you back."

Sweeney nodded. A waste, yes. A waste of a whole life with her. How could he have even considered it. He turned and headed for the door, already thinking of ways to get closer to Shilo. The door thumped shut behind him, leaving Snake alone. The supporting smile slipped from the lawyer's face, and he frowned, deep in thought.

"Yes, it would have been a fine waste indeed to send him back to prison," he muttered to himself, "All in good time. But definitely not yet."

...

HOH SNAP, HINTS AT DEVIOUS PLOTS *SHOT* I hope you all have a great, food/love-filled Thanksgiving if I don't catch ya before then. Please review, and please stay tuned =3


	11. Chapter 11

I wrote this whole thing instead of term papers while sitting at Panera last week XD Enjoy!

...

The next few weeks flew quickly by. Shilo spent her days working with Mors. Lovett in the pie shop. They had grown steadily busier; some days Shilo was constantly on her feet, trying to keep up with orders and wiping the tables down. On those nights it was a relief to go home. Still, Shilo enjoyed working. The tiredness she felt at the end of the day was a good one. It was always nice to sit down to a quiet dinner after the particular busy days.

Oh, not a totally quiet dinner, at least not all the time. Shilo and her father were learning to talk to each other. Often he would ask her a question, which would spark a short conversation, before they lapsed back into their usual awkward silence. Still, Shilo could tell he was trying, and she was trying too. Gradually they started losing the shyness they had around each other.

Mrs. Lovett had been right. They _were_ starting to feel like a family. Before she knew it, she had been living at Mrs. Lovett's for about two months.

Today had been an especially busy day in the shop, and Shilo was bone-tired, but she really wanted to visit her mother. Sometimes she got a strong urge to visit her, and today was one of those times. She sighed and packed her backpack, hoping she would stay awake long enough to make the journey home. All the way down the tunnel, she kept her hand on the wall to keep from stumbling. When she reached the mausoleum, she sank onto the stop and leaned against the wall, stretching her legs out straight. She closed her eyes and felt like she never wanted to move again.

Distant voices drifted towards her, making her eyes open again. It could be nothing, she was not going to be caught by the cops again. Groaning, she stood and looked out the window in the door. The graveyard was empty, but she still heard the voices. She cracked the door and stuck her head outside, turning to her right, towards the entrance. People walked past the gates, talking and laughing. Shilo suddenly remembered the Music Fest was that night. She had read it upside down on a customer's newspaper that morning as she poured his coffee.

All at once, she was curious. She had never been to the Fest before. She had always wanted to, but Rotti had never allowed her because of her illness. Her adoptive siblings had, every year, and would taunt the jealous Shilo with their tales. No one was here to stop her this time, but Mrs. Lovett might worry if she was gone too long. _I'll walk around for a little while and then go straight home,_ she decided. She shouldered her backpack and headed for the gates.

...

Next chapter is when the ball starts to roll ;D It'll be short too, and since I'm on winter break now it'll be up faster. Stay tuned!


	12. Chapter 12

(Very) Short chapter alert =P Enjoy!

...

The beeping of his watch made Sweeney frown and turn to glare at it. The subsequent lapse in concentration made his razor slip and slash the corpse's stomach open. He stepped back in disgust as the remnants of its dinner spilled out onto the floor, splashing onto his boots. And still the watch sat beeping on the instrument tray. Hitting it with his elbow – the cleanest part of him – Sweeney barked, "What?"

"Mr. Todd?" Mrs. Lovett's voice was tight with panic, "I'm so sorry to bother you, but it's Shilo, I can't find her!"

His insides grew cold. "What do you mean?" he demanded, "Isn't she in her room?"

"No, I called up to her to tell her dinner was ready, but she didn't answer. I went upstairs to see if she was sleeping but she wasn't there!" She sounded close to tears, the words tumbling out so fast he had trouble following.

"Maybe she went to visit Mar- her mother." The watch shrilled again, flashing a name. "Hold on, I've got another call." Again his elbow tapped the watch, "Snake."

"Mr. Todd," the lawyer answered, "I have a special mission for you tonight. The details are being faxed to you as we speak." A whirring from the changing room confirmed Snake's words. "It must be done tonight," his smooth voice left no room for argument.

"Got it," Sweeney said curtly, and hung up on him. "Mrs. Lovett?"

"I'm still here," she said, sniffing.

"That was Snake. He's sending me out tonight; I'll look for Shilo on the way. I'm nearly done with the one I have here. Once I'm finished, I'll leave."

"Oh, thank you, Mr. T!" Relief colored her voice. "I'll go ask the neighbors if they've seen her." She hung up then, leaving Sweeney alone with the corpse once more. Quickly he pried the spleen from the hole in the chest, dropped it in the return bag, and hauled the corpse into the holding chamber. He hardly noticed what he was doing as he threw his supplies into his bag. The entire time, his frantic mind was elsewhere: on his daughter, and where on earth she might be.

...

Told ya XD Next chapter'll be fun, I promise. Please review, and please stay tuned!


	13. Chapter 13

Nothin' to say, so just enjoy =)

...

There were so many people! Shilo quickly found herself swept along with the crowd as she left the graveyard. They were chattering excitedly, laughing, some smoking something that made Shilo's nose wrinkle. Other smells wafted through the air: sweat, charcoal, hot dogs and fries.

She turned her head toward the scent. Even more exciting than the people, she decided, were the stalls. Booths lined both sides of the street. Employees inside shouted names and virtues of their wares: everything from food to souvenirs to games. Shilo's stomach rumbled, reminding her she hadn't eaten dinner. Her hunger was soon swept away by the notion that this festival was just like an exotic marketplace, the kind she had read about in books. The romance and glamour of finding herself in the middle of a story pulled her deeper into the festival.

A sudden tight grip on her upper left arm wrenched Shilo out of her daydream. She gasped as she felt herself pulled into a nearby alley. She looked up, frightened. To her surprise, it was the graverobber she had run into that night in the graveyard. What did he want with her?

"Well, well. Little Miss I'm-Not-Supposed-To-Be-Outside, here at the Music Festival." His grin belied his stern tone.

"I've never been," Shilo confessed, smiling back, "And I've been feeling good so I thought I'd check it out. What are you doing here?"

"Me? Oh, just some business," he said airily, which made Shilo narrow her eyes in suspicion. "Oh, don't worry," he laughed, seeing the look on her face, "I doubt you'd be interested. You seem like a good kid. I just wanted to say hey. You weren't lookin' too good last time I saw ya."

Shilo was about to relate the whole weird story when she saw something even more bizarre strutting their way from the other end of the alley. As the figure came closer to the light, Shilo's eyes widened. It was Amber, with two of her bodyguards, wearing little more than a corset, shorts, and thigh-high boots. Shilo hadn't seen her since moving out of the mansion. Something was different about her, besides the fact that her hair was now deepest black, but Shilo couldn't place it.

Amber seemed not to notice Shilo. Instead she strode right up to Graverobber and hissed, "Give me a fix."

Suddenly it clicked. Shilo knew that Amber was addicted to surgery – everyone did. Speculations of the exact number were regular in the tabloids, something that brought Rotti no end of shame. Now that she looked closer, Shilo could see the subtle differences in Amber's face.

It had never occurred to Shilo that Amber would be using illegal zydrate. GeneCo made a generic, if you will; a chemical substitute for the real thing found in corpse's brains. Shilo had always assumed that's what Amber took for the pain.

_But they say the illegal stuff is a lot more potent,_ Shilo remembered. _With all the surgeries Amber goes through, she probably needs the extra kick._ She then surprised herself by feeling sorry for her adopted sister.

Graverobber smirked, "I just gave you one this morning."

"I need another one." Amber's voice was low and dangerous. "Now."

"Not now, dear," Graverobber said lightly in contrast, "What kind of example would we be setting for our young friend here?"

Amber whirled around and saw Shilo for the first time. Her eyes widened in shock, then narrowed in hate. "What are _you_ doing here?" she spat.

"Hello to you too," Shilo replied coldly, all sympathies evaporating. Amber might alter her appearance, but her mean personality would never change.

"Go away," Amber snarled.

"I thought this was a public festival," Shilo retorted, "I can go wherever I want."

"Do you two know each other?" Graverobber asked excitedly, "This is turning out to be an interesting night!"

Several things happened at once then. Rapid cracks rang out from somewhere in the festival, eliciting several screams from the crowd. Amber fainted, either from the shock of the sudden noise or from the pain, and her bodyguards caught her. Sirens started to shriek, red and blue lights to bounce off the buildings. Shilo would have remained frozen to the spot, but Graverobber grabbed her hand and pulled her down the alley, away from the street.

They ran, twisting and turning through alleys and backstreets. At first they were alone but others seemed to get the same idea, that they would be safer off the main streets, so the alleys became more and more clogged. It became harder and harder to hold onto Graverobber's hand, and eventually the crowd forced them apart. Shilo screamed but he was already gone, lost in the stampede of people.

A door appeared to her right. She pushed through the people with such force that she fell against the door, and it opened. She landed face-down in a dark space, but lights were on somewhere beyond her; she could see it reflected in the black floor. The door swung shut, leaving Shilo panting in the silence.

What was that? A dull thud had sounded in front of her, further into the room. Slowly, she lifted her upper body from the floor. She could see enough to realize that she was in the backstage of a theatre in her peripheral vision. But she didn't think of that. What held her gaze was the woman who had fallen to the floor in a pool of blood, the Repoman standing over her, looking directly at Shilo. As she watched, he reached up and took off his mask. Who she saw nearly made her die.

...

=0! I'm a horrible tease, I'm sorry XD Next chapter will be fun, I promise. Please review and stay tuned!


	14. Chapter 14

I'm so sorry for the wait ;-; Some family issues came up and I was too upset to write for a while. But here it is, enjoy!

...

If Shilo looked frightened before Sweeney took off the mask, it was nothing compared to her expression after. Her face went so pale, she looked like a ghost. Her eyes widened until her dark irises were nearly strangled by the whites of her eyes. Sweeney was sorry he scared her, but he was tired of lying to his daughter. _She has to know._

"You!" Shilo gasped.

Sweeney simply nodded in reply. "Shilo, I-," he began, taking a step towards her.

"Stay away from me!" she shrieked, frantically scooting backwards.

He stopped, stung even though he had expected it. "You don't understand -,"

"Yes, I do," she shouted, her voice echoing around the vast space, "It all makes sense now! You murdered all those people and –," she made a choking noise and stopped, breathing hard.

Sweeney said heavily, "Shilo, I'm only doing this because I have to."

"So you went to prison because you just _had_ to go on a killing spree? Like it's as normal as going for a gallon of milk?" Her sarcasm cut him to the quick.

"You know why I went to prison." His voice seemed to get lower and more mournful as Shilo's continued to rise in fury.

"No I don't," she said defiantly, "Rotti never told me why."

Staggered, Sweeney stammered, "He – he didn't?"

"No." Shilo thrust out her chin, looking for a moment so much like Marni when she was angry that he wanted to cry. "And trust me, I was better off not knowing."

"Let me explain," he implored. Shilo narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. He became suddenly conscious that he was still holding his razor. It dropped to the floor with a clatter and held his palms up. The blood on the gloves gleamed under the stage lights. "Please, Shilo. You have the right to know."

"No more lies?" she asked, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I swear," he said immediately, "No more lies."

Her body relaxed slightly, but her eyes remained wary as ever. She nodded.

Sweeney swallowed. Now or never. "Shilo, before you were born, Mar- your mother – was… involved… with Rotti." A look of disgust came over her face so he quickly continued, "She was good friends with Mrs. Lovett, and I had my parlor over her shop even then. She was constantly over and soon we fell in love. Marni left Rotti and we got married soon after. When Marni got pregnant with you, I'd never been happier," he said with a tiny smile.

His face darkened again as he went on, "But Marni was having trouble with the pregnancy. I had to run to get the doctor the night you were born. Before I got very far, I heard screaming and had to go back. You were fine, but -," he choked on the thing he was about to say, but forced it out, "But Marni – she was dead. Rotti did it, I know, he did it for revenge, but I could never prove it."

"Wait, so how did you end up in jail?" Shilo asked, her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"The police came and saw me standing over her body. They thought… think… I killed her." Shilo gasped, making to move backwards again, prompting Sweeney to cry, "But I didn't, Shilo! I would never touch her! She was my world, my everything, just -," his throat closed with emotion again. He swallowed and finished, "Just like you are now. Please, you have to believe me!" he begged, feeling he could not face living if she didn't.

Throughout his pleading monologue, Shilo had become steadily paler, breath coming shorter and more rapid. As he finished, her watch began to go off. "Medicate immediately," it trilled.

"My medicine," she panted, reaching for her bag.

"What medicine?" Sweeney demanded, bewildered.

"Helps… my condition… otherwise I'll -," and she collapsed in a dead faint.

Shouting her name, Sweeney ran to her and threw himself on the floor beside her. He reached into the front pocket of her backpack, fumbling in his panic. After a moment he managed to extricate a pill bottle. Sweeney squinted, studying the label. The many-syllabled name of the drug made sense to him because of all the medical magazines he had read in prison. _What?_ His eyes widened in disbelief. He read it again, slowly, to make sure he had understood correctly. Unfortunately, he had. A terrible rage filled him as he looked from the bottle to his unconscious daughter.

...

*dodges heavy objects* I'm sorry, I was going to write more but I liked ending it there D= XD I promise it won't take so long to update the next chapter. Please review, and please stay tuned =)


	15. Chapter 15

Nothin' to say so enjoy ^^

...

A blurry world greeted Shilo when she opened her eyes, and she blinked. Her father was kneeling beside her with a serious face, holding her bottle of medicine. "What are these?" he growled, shaking the bottle. The pills rattling inside sounded sinister.

Frightened and confused by his sudden anger, she sat up and replied, "My medicine. It helps to -," she stopped. Suddenly she wasn't exactly sure what her medicine was for.

"So that's what they told you it was?" her father hissed.

More mystified than ever, Shilo tried to explain, "The doctors said it's a genetic blood disease. There's no cure yet. That's why I have to stay inside and take my medicine. Wait," she frowned, "Shouldn't you know this already?"

Ignoring her question, he snorted, "Of course there's no cure. You don't _have_ a blood disease. These pills," he shook the bottle again, "are poison."

The wild elation that she might not be sick was shattered with that last word. "Poison?" she yelped.

"Who gave you these?" her father demanded, fury burning his face. It would have burned her if she hadn't felt so abruptly cold.

"M-Mrs. Lovett," Shilo gasped, struggling with the image of the kindly woman actually _poisoning_ her, "She always picks up my prescription." Her vision smeared again, this time with tears.

"Mr. Todd, I can explain." The sudden voice made them both jump. Shilo turned to her right to watch Mrs. Lovett materialize out of the shadows.

Her father stood, murder in his face. "I don't need a God-damned explanation," he thundered, "You're poisoning my daughter!"

"But it won't kill her," Mrs. Lovett implored, "It just makes her dizzy and short of breath if she doesn't take it regularly."

"Like that's any better?" he spat.

"But it's for her own good!" Mrs. Lovett wailed, close to tears, "I do it to keep her close, just like Rotti did!"

Rotti. He was the one who started all this. He'd had her mother killed and fabricated a disease, "medicating" her with poison, to… keep her safe? It didn't make any sense. "Why would he do that?" she murmured, more to herself than anything.

The acoustics in the place were fantastic, however, and both Mrs. Lovett and her father turned to look down at her. Her father seemed slightly surprised, as if he'd forgotten she was there. Mrs. Lovett looked at Shilo with a gentle sympathy the teenager was suddenly wary of. What else had she lied to her about?

"To keep you from me, my dear. I was the one who killed your mother."

...

*ducks moar heavy objects* I'm sorry I just can't help myself XD Please review and please stay tuned =3


	16. Chapter 16

Finally have a chance to update! I'm sorry, school's been awful lately -.- Anyway, enjoy!

...

The world spun crazily, rushing in Sweeney's ears. A red haze crept into his vision as the roaring in his ears grew louder. Rage racked his body, making his fingers and eyelids twitch. He was so focused on Mrs. Lovett, the one woman he thought he could trust, that he barely registered the second figure appearing out of the shadows.

"Now, now, my dear, don't take all the credit." Cato Snake's voice chided. Sweeney whirled to watch him enter from stage left. Voices screamed in Sweeney's head, for blood, for revenge.

A small gasp behind him stopped the voices cold. Shilo. No. He could not lose control around her. He took a deep breath, fighting to repress his bloodlust.

"Deep breaths, that's the ticket, Mr. Todd," Snake sneered.

"Unless you're explaining yourself, Snake, you better shut the hell up," Sweeney snarled.

"Wouldn't you first like to explain to your daughter why you are wearing the Repo jacket?" Sweeney had never hated Snake's smooth sarcasm as much as in this moment.

"Tell me what you're doing here!" Sweeney roared.

"If you don't tell her, I will!" Snake shouted in reply.

That shut Sweeney up. He glared at Snake with a bottomless abhorrence before stepping backwards and slightly to his right. He wanted to face Shilo and tell her without exposing his back to Snake or Mrs. Lovett.

"Shilo, when I got back from prison, Snake offered me this job." He looked into her dark eyes as he confessed, even though he was afraid of the emotion he might see there. "If I became the Repoman, he would fix the charges against me. I didn't want to, I mean, I did, no-," he fumbled and looked down at his hands, at the blood congealing on the gloves. "I know it's wrong. Some small part of me hates that I kill. But it's the only outlet for the hate I have inside me. I swear I get so angry I could burn this whole God-damned city down. But I can't - because of you." He looked into her eyes again. They were still frightened, but tinged with pity. "I do it so that I don't turn on you. I do it so that one day, we can be a family the way we were meant to be."

The pity in Shilo's eyes had taken over, only to be replaced with understanding. He knew then that she completely understood him, and that made him dizzy with relief and… something else, something foreign and nearly forgotten… _Is this… happiness?_

"How touching," Snake drawled, jolting Sweeney out of his revelation. He snapped his head back up to glare at Snake.

"Happy now?" Sweeney spat.

"Oh, yes." Snake sneered.

"Now tell me what the hell you have to do with all this!" Sweeney ordered.

"Certainly, if it makes you feel better," Snake obliged coolly, looking at Shilo. Sweeney moved in front of her instinctively, protectively, growling like an animal when Snake smirked. The three adults formed a triangle: the barber, the lawyer, and the pie-maker, each of these identities falling apart, revealing something much more sinister.

"Rotti was in _such_ as state when Marni left him for you," Snake began, with more venom than usual. "All he did was mope about, wondering to himself, 'Why?' The company was falling apart, but he did nothing to stop it. It was pathetic. So I took it upon myself to get revenge." He grinned maliciously.

"Marni had talked a great deal about her 'good' friend, Mrs. Lovett. So I looked her up and we had a little chat. Didn't we, my dear?" He nodded at Mrs. Lovett. "We found we had similar… opinions… about Marni." Again he smiled, conspiratorially, at Mrs. Lovett. Sweeney's stomach churned in sickened disbelief. "She was jealous, enraged even, of Marni stealing you from her, Mr. Todd. While I, well, I just wanted her out of the picture so Rotti would get back to running his company. Out of sight, out of mind, as they say. So we devised a plan to get rid of her." He chuckled. Sweeney looked in horror at Mrs. Lovett, who smiled sweetly at him. His stomach clenched again and he had to look away.

"The night you were born, my dear," Snake continued, talking to Shilo this time, "Your father had to run for the doctor. Didn't even have a phone, can you imagine?" He laughed, briefly and coldly, sending a flash of fury through Sweeney. "Mrs. Lovett called me up as soon as you left," he turned to Sweeney again, "I was hiding in that wonderful bake house of hers. Your daughter was born just as Mrs. Lovett cut your wife's throat with one of your own straightrazors. She then called the police, claiming you had gone utterly mad. She screamed, and I knocked her out – apologetically, you see, but it was all part of the plan. I disappeared back down into the cellar before you or the police could get there. When Rotti heard about the murder, amazingly he was more distraught than ever. He took Shilo in, as some sort of repentance." He spat the last word, as if disgusted.

"Wait a minute," Shilo blurted from behind Sweeney. "If Rotti cared so much that he adopted me, why didn't he leave GeneCo to me?" He looked down at her, surprised. "Not that I care," she muttered, looking at the floor, "I never wanted it anyway. But it doesn't make any sense."

"That was me again, darling. He had originally wanted to leave it to you, but I rewrote his will so the company fell to Amber. When he had to sign it again, I told him it was merely a little misspelling, and he signed it without even reading it. Of course, he was on his deathbed so he was in no condition to read anything anyway." His face split into that Cheshire-cat grin again. "Nothing personal, you understand, but you were never part of that family, were you? It was best for the company." Shilo shrugged, as if she couldn't care less.

"As for the rest of that horrible night, well," he leered at Sweeney again, "I'm sure prison wasn't all that bad, was it? I've heard it's more bearable the second time around."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Sweeney barked.

"Do you even realize who you've just killed?" Snake demanded, pointing to the body at Sweeney's feet.

"Blind Mag, the opera singer. Her contract is up and her eyes needed to be removed. You were the one who faxed me, remember?" Sweeney retorted.

How was it even possible for Snake's expression to become more devilish? "But the public didn't know that, did they, Mr. Todd? Imagine the chaos that would ensue, if, say, I opened the curtain as the house was filling up. Imagine their panic when they see you standing over the body of their beloved star. Imagine also their disgust when they learn that you have been saving the bodies – and using them to make _meat pies_."

A gagging noise alerted everyone to Shilo's presence again. Sweeney glanced over his shoulder at her, worried that she would be sick. Indeed, he felt that way himself. Instead she looked up at him with a revolted expression. "You… you didn't… you wouldn't…"

"No, my dear, he wouldn't have," Mrs. Lovett put in, and Sweeney turned to her. "That's why it was my idea. I only told him I would burn the bodies in my oven. And I did," she giggled, "in a manner of speaking."

Snake laughed with her, "My girl, you are a genius." Mrs. Lovett curtsied, a wry smile on her face. "Anyway, Mr. Todd," he addressed the horrified Sweeney again with a sarcastically tragic tone, "the good people of this city wouldn't like that very much, would they? I daresay they would take up arms against you, cry for you to be locked up for life."

"But you wouldn't!" Mrs. Lovett cried, making them all jump, "You said you wouldn't let him go back to prison, you _promised_!"

"Come now, my dear," Snake chided, still holding Sweeney's gaze. "He's a danger to society! You may be too blinded by love to see it, but I do. We're better off without him."

For a moment, Sweeney's wrath was doused by despair. Maybe Snake was right. Prison had changed him forever. Before, he had been a quiet man, but calm and peaceful, unwilling to make a fuss. That serenity had been replaced by hatred and anger and dreams full of blood. He felt forever stained. He would never be normal again, never fit back in the fabric of human society. Perhaps prison really was where he belonged. Maybe it really was best.

"And of course," Snake added, with his crooked smile, "It would be best for Shilo, as well."

At that, Sweeney finally snapped. He flew at Snake, grabbing him by his stupid smirking face. Taken by surprise, Snake flailed his arms, stumbling backwards. Sweeney kept his grip, tightening it, as he reached into his coat for his holster and the razor hidden there. The screams of Shilo and Mrs. Lovett echoed around the stage, but the men were oblivious to them as they grappled.

"You took everything away from me, you bastard" Sweeney hissed in Snake's ear as he flipped the razor open. "You won't do it again," he promised, drawing the razor across Snake's throat. Red-hot blood sprayed Sweeney's face and he squinted to prevent it from getting in his eyes. Snake gurgled, choking, writhing uselessly against the grip of death. After a moment he was merely twitching, and Sweeney dropped the body.

He turned on Mrs. Lovett then. "Why?" he growled.

"Because I love you," she replied. He hated the pleading note in her voice. "Because we could have been a family."

"My family died with her," he snarled, and leapt towards her. Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, throwing her hands up in a futile attempt to protect herself. She never stood a chance. Mercilessly, Sweeney swooped upon her and wrestled her to the ground. She screamed, fighting him, trying to shake him off, but she wasn't strong enough. He knocked her arms aside and plunged the razor into the space where her heart should have been. The scream that tore from her throat made his ears ring, but he did not falter. Again and again he buried the razor in her chest, rage and grief whirling, working him into a frenzy. He had trusted her, and she had lied to him. He glared into her eyes as he killed her, watching them overflow with fear. Her screams reached his ears as if from far away. When he couldn't bear looking at her anymore, he cut her throat, and the screams ceased, but her eyes never closed.

As Sweeney stood, he suddenly remembered something that sent a jolt of panic through his stomach. He turned and faced his daughter. She had moved against the back wall, made herself small as possible. Only her face, white with terror, was visible through the gloom.

The deepest disgust flooded through Sweeney. He had done what he had sworn never to do – lost control in front of her. Anguish then gripped him. Whatever chance they had of building a bond was completely obliterated now. Still, he had to try to make it right somehow. He lurched toward her, "Shilo-,"

"NO!" She screamed, looking absolutely horrified.

Her denial cut him deeper than any razor wound. He stopped halfway to her. Tears filled his eyes with such force that he rocked back on his heels. "Shilo, please…"

"No, behind you!" She shrieked, pointing.

Before he had time to turn, Sweeney found himself on the floor, pulled down by the back of his coat. Snake loomed over him, looking like something out of a horror movie: eyes blank, blood still dripping from his throat. He held up something small and gleaming. _My razor! The one I dropped earlier!_ Before he could defend himself, before he could even cry out, Snake clumsily but deliberately slashed the razor across Sweeney's throat.

...

=0 I'm awful, I know XD Next chapter will be the last! Please review and please stay tuned ^^


	17. Chapter 17

I'm so incredibly sorry guys, but my Microsoft Word suddenly needs the access code and my mother lost the box, that's why I haven't updated D,= I had to type this on Notepad XD Please enjoy this last chapter. ^^

...

Her father stood in front of her, as if trying to protect her from the confessions that emanated from all corners of the stage. Shilo sat behind him, concentrating on her breathing. The words were reaching her ears, but not sinking in; it was too much, yet she tried to straighten it all out.

Snake wanted to keep GeneCo from sinking after Marni left Rotti devastated. He and Mrs. Lovett, motivated by jealousy that Marni had married her father, had conspired and killed her mother. Her father went to prison for it. Rotti had adopted Shilo after Marni's murder, making up a disease and "medicating" her with poison to keep her safe. He had wanted to leave GeneCo to Shilo, but Snake had rewritten the will so the company fell to Amber. No doubt he had also worked it so that her father was released from prison so he could become the Repoman. Snake had promised her father his charges would be cleared, but had planned all along to get him caught and sent back to prison. Her father had taken the job to vent the anger prison had given him, with the hopes of becoming a normal family with Shilo. Unbeknownst to him, Mrs. Lovett had been disposing of the bodies by butchering them for the pies she sold in her shop. Shilo's head whirled, the revelations pounding against her skull.

Shilo could only watch in horror as her father turned on Snake, killing him and then Mrs. Lovett. Unnoticed, she scooted back until her back thumped against the wall. When he turned to her, she was terrified that he would kill her, too. As soon as he said her name, she knew he wouldn't, and relief flooded through her.

Fear electrified her again as she noticed Snake crawling toward her father, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. She cried out, trying to warn him, but was too late.

Her father fell in slow motion. The blood that squirted from his throat arced through the air and seemed to never reach the floor. Snake slumped across her father's body, as if in a lover's embrace, his final act carried out. The razor dropped from his limp hand, hitting the floor with a clink.

At that little noise, time snapped back into it's normal rhythm, and then some. Adrenaline pulled Shilo up, rushed her to her father's side. With a frantic strength, she pushed Snake's body off of her father. Sobbing with fright, she took her father's head and cradled it in her lap. "No, no," she moaned. _Don't be dead,_ she couldn't bring herself to say.

His eyelids fluttered open then, and Shilo gasped in relief. But he looked at her with a resignation that broke her heart. It was only when he clumsily reached up and touched her face that she realized she was crying. He wiped away a tear with his thumb, leaving a smear of blood in his wake.

"Don't cry, Shilo," he rasped, forcing a fresh trickle of blood out of his throat.

"But you're dying," Shilo replied, choked up at how calm he seemed to be.

"I've been dead for a long time, Shilo," he explained, coughing a little, "Losing your mother... losing you... I lost myself, too. All this," he glanced down at the blood staining the plastic Repo jacket, "it isn't me. This is a monster. I can't be the father you deserve." His voice cracked, either from the wound or regret.

"You're not a monster, Dad." It was the first time she had ever called him that, and it came naturally now, somehow. "Anyone who loved Mom as much as you can't be a monster."

He didn't reply right away, just looked into Shilo's eyes as if seriously considering her words. "Maybe you're right," he finally acquiesed, voice growing ever fainter. Tears gleamed in his own eyes as he caressed Shilo's face again. "I'm sorry we could never be a family. I love you, Shilo."

"I love you too, Dad." It should have been impossible for her to say it. They'd only had two, three months tops together. Not nearly enough time to catch up with all the time they'd lost. But in the end, everything he'd done had been to protect her, to stay with her, and she could never hate him for that.

He smiled then, the first and last time she'd seen him do so. For a moment, he looked just like his younger self in the wedding picture. "I'm proud of you, Shilo," he whispered, "You truly are your mother's daughter." His eyes closed, releasing a last tear. The hand on Shilo's face slipped, but she caught it reflexively in her left hand and held it to her left shoulder.

"No, no," she murmured again, clutching the collar of his jacket with her right hand. He did not stir. "Don't leave me," she moaned, bending over the body. She touched his face as he had touched hers, oblivious to the blood, but he remained still. She gave herself up to weeping then, grief rocking her back and forth. All her life, she'd thought of her father as a criminal, but she had been wrong. He had sacrificed so much for her, and had loved her even though it seemed impossible after all he'd gone through. Shilo was glad she had a chance to say she loved him back, but cried now for all the times she hadn't, all the times she never would. She looked up to him now, like any child should their father.

After a long time, Shilo wiped her eyes. Carefully, she placed her dad's hand on his chest. She stood up. Later, she would have to call the police and tell them what had happened here. She would have to explain the whole, sorry mess that had started nearly twenty years ago. She would lay her father to rest alongside her mother in the mausoleum. No doubt she would have to find someplace else to live. But where? She was seventeen and alone in the world.

Shilo was not daunted. In fact, she welcomed the challenge. She was no longer confined by a "disease." Here was a chance to start over, and she gladly accepted it. As Mrs. Lovett had once told her, "Life is for the alive." Shilo would mourn for her dad but live her life, too. For him. The way he would have wanted her to.

...

Fun fact: I nearly started crying multiple times as I was writing and finishing this XD;; Me and my outrageous feelings. I hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I have writing it; this has been my favorite fic so far. =D Thank you all for your reviews, especially to FiveFaces, who motivated me more than I can say! 'Til next time ^^


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